“Wrong answer, buddy. You’ll be next to me on that stage and you’re going to act like you are enjoying it.” I stood and retrieved the huckleberry cheesecake from the fridge. “Besides, I’ve already picked up our outfits from the high school. Did you know they did a production of Chicago last year?”
“Maybe we should ask the drama club to take over mystery theater?” Greg brightened. “Did you talk to their coach?”
“No, Darla’s determined to play the speakeasy madam. I don’t think she’d let someone step in now.” I held up a piece of the dessert. “You want a slice?”
“It’s going to take more than some decadent treat to make me happy.” But he took the plate from me.
“Now you know how I felt.” I sat back and relaxed. We had a good thing going here, Greg and I. Better than most of my other relationships had been, including my short-lived marriage. I knew more about Greg now than I’d known about my ex-husband in six years. I heard Greg’s phone buzz, signaling the arrival of a text. He pulled it out, read the message, then took the last bite of the dessert.
“Sorry, I’ve got to run.” He kissed me quickly. “I’ll come by tomorrow about six?”
“That will work.” I raised my eyebrows. “Is there a problem in town?”
Greg shrugged. “The bank’s alarm keeps going off and the security company has called us down there five times this month. Paine’s looking into the problem, but we can’t be too safe. Toby was called out to an accident on the highway as backup, so I’ve got to run.”
“Anything to get out of dishes,” I joked. I walked him to the front door, where he leaned in for a proper kiss.
“See you tomorrow.” He stepped out the door. “And lock up.”
I did as he instructed. He meant well. Something you have to accept when you date a person in law enforcement. They tend to be alphas.
I cleaned up the kitchen, poured a glass of wine, and curled up on the couch. Emma, my golden retriever, lay on the floor next to me. I bypassed the remote and grabbed the women’s fiction novel I’d started on Sunday.
The best thing about owning a bookstore? The research.
The next morning I’d finished my morning commuters’ coffee run by eight. The shop grew quiet. I’d done most of the prep work yesterday during the later shift that had been as dead as this morning was shaping up to be. So I continued my research. I’d finished the book and was sitting in one of the armchairs, thinking about the characters and the world I’d left behind, when the bell rang over the door. A group of women from the small bank branch down the street burst inside, excited chatter filling the shop.
I jumped up and went over to the counter. “Welcome, ladies. I don’t typically see you out on a workday.”
“The bank’s closed until noon. They’re working on the security system, and we can’t be there.” Leslie Talman, a woman I’d met over at The Glass Slipper at my one and only stained-glass class, led the group toward the counter. “So we decided to come here.”
“I wanted to go to Diamond Lille’s for an early lunch,” the tall woman near the back grumbled. Anne, I remembered, her name was Anne.
I threw a clean towel over my shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you decided to stop here first. What can I make you?”
One by one, the women called out their orders, and I started to ring out the group of six. “These will all be separate, I suppose.”
Anne pushed toward the front. “I’ll get it.” She handed me a credit card. When her friends protested, she smiled. “I came into some money, and I’d like to do this. Humor me. It’s not like I’m buying you jewelry or a car.”
The women settled around a table and I handed Anne a slip and a pen to sign. “That was nice of you.” I heated the milk for the lattes as she signed.
“Money’s no good sitting in a bank. It needs to be spread around to make a difference in this world.” Anne turned away to join her friends.
By the time I’d finished the drinks and cut the last cheesecake to serve, the women were laughing and talking all over themselves. Kent should be the one paying for this little impromptu team-building activity. They’d all go back to work happy and motivated for the rest of the day.
I glanced at the receipt and nearly gasped at the tip. She’d left me almost 50 percent. I took the slip and pen to the table and tapped Anne’s shoulder. “I think you made a mistake.” I kept my voice quiet, not wanting to embarrass the woman.
Anne glanced down at the paper. “Nope, looks right to me.”
“But the tip . . .”
She pushed my hand with the slip away. “I told you, money needs to be spread around.” Then she turned back to the table and leaned over. “Did you guys see the boss’s girlfriend come in with her panties in a bunch this morning?”